Verasul Rizakin
"I ain't got time for games. The world's going to shit, I got a migraine that makes me wanna cut my head off and I'm slowly bleedin' out. But all this doesn't matter, because I'll be dead if I don't make it home for dinner by ten. Fuck. '''Off'."'' ―Verasul Rizakin History Colonies comprised of optimistic explorers going missing aren't unheard of, especially if they leave the relative safety of borders set by a nation they, to that day, still belonged to. In the year of 960, a group of people hailing from Scorchfront decided to leave the border close to Londorwin in order to seek better fates outside of Egron - a new start in new lands their goal. While their little group was hopeful, they admittedly lacked in skill when it came to actually traversing unknown territory, their decision born more out of desperation than true wanderlust. Neverless they set out, bags packed and wagons filled with goods. It was the day of Verasul's third birthday when they left his hometown behind for what seemed to be forever. The journey was, as expected, arduous. Used to crossing plains more than steep, rocky ground, the vast Kormal Mountains proved a challenge only a few days in. Still they pushed on, those that could or did not want to go further making their way back home while the remaining pioneers traversed the mountainous region and eventually, after harrying weeks of constant marching interrupted only for rest and repairs, ending up in front of a region now known as The Swamp of Palus. And unaware of the dangers that lurked inside its confines, the people pressed on into territory so unlike the green hills they were used to and even the mountains they had traversed not so long ago. At first, everything went well - with the exception of early struggles thanks to the swamp's muddy ground, the group made progress. Until the first monsters arrived. It was, for a lack of better terms, a massacre. While some were trained in basic combat, the majority of the travelers had nothing to protect themselves with and were quickly torn apart by the swamp's former fauna, mutated and corrupted by Plagae's influence. The surviving rest, among them the small child and his parents, abandoned their wagons and scattered in hopes of escaping the monstrous predators that way. Seperated from the rest of the Scorchfront civilians, the Rizakin family fled as best they could - only to run into the arms of several other human beings. Thinking they were saved, the family of three were quick to beg for help, fear causing them to not wonder what these robed individuals were doing in the swamp in the first place. The initial relief of being saved quickly turned to despair when the people revealed who they were: Former followers of the necromancer responsible for Plagae's creation, overseeing the dragon's effects on the swamp and its battle against the Health Stone, and in extension, aid the corruption's spread. In order to achieve this, three 'willing' sacrifices were a perfect catch. If the ritual truly demanded a child Verasul and his parents never figured out. Strapped to a rudimentary altar, the young boy was forced to watch his mother and father die by having their throats cut, the light in their pleading eyes slowly dimming until it was completely gone. Their lifeforce was what fueled the summoning of a demon straight from the abyss, young Verasul intended to be its host. Perhaps his parent's souls had not been enough to power a successful ritual, the gods the youngling had prayed to sent their blessing or something had gone wrong during the actual call - either way, what finally emerged on the material plane was a demon of severely reduced power, using the boy's body as a vessel rather than taking it over entirely. The cultists were rightfully livid, this unforeseen mishap putting a halt to their plans. Still the summoning had succeeded, the creature had been called to this world; the only thing that was left to do was wait until it had regained its strength. For this, the young boy was kept among their ranks - first as a potential recruit, though the horrors he had experienced at the cult's hands prevented most forms of indoctrination to work. When everything else failed they simply kept him as a prisoner, bound in chains as he trudged after them through the swamp, and locked up when they rested. Fourteen years passed alongside worshippers of demons, undead and fiends alike, learning their ways, their plans for him and the general region and the ability to speak to demons in their native tongue, Abyssal. Fourteen years in which the demonic presence inside of him kept stirring and growing in strength as he did in tandem, before he managed to make his escape. A group of what appeared to be adventurers caused enough of a distraction for him to stumble away in the chaos that erupted. Whether they had been tasked with disrupting the cult or simply came across them on accident as they traversed the swamp he never found out, nor did he learn who his saviors were or what became of them after the fanatic's most prized possession stumbled away from it all, the simple fear of being caught again making him push on alone, a feeling that so many years ago first moved his family and friends to leave their home. His desperate sprint eventually made him cross the border between the Swamp's two halves - its lush, green scenery a welcome sight after having spent more than double his childhood, as short as it had been, in the decrepid, rotten part of this region. Upon reaching the threshold however, the malignant forces caused by Plagae's aura and the Health Stone's power clashing seized his body in an instant, the wild magic ravaging the young boy's body and mind, melding and reshaping it. How exactly it happened he still doesn't know to this day, but in that moment the demon had forever been bound to his body, two minds sharing one body. And his soul was not the only thing affected: In the wake of the supernatural mutation, his formerly brown hair had lost all color, turning a stark white, while his eyes had become as if bloodshot, sporting a red color in comparison to his former, blue ones. The trauma of the transformation wracked the body of the already weakened child and he collapsed shortly after. When he awoke once more, he had found himself in a region not unlike the swamp he had just escaped. Only later, when he finally left and returned to civilization, did he find out that he had been carried to the Targal Glades to recuperate by a handful of creatures existing there, among them a certain Kitsune calling herself Lilliana'Mavros. It is majorly thanks to her that he survived not only the ordeal in The Swamp of Palus, but also the next ten years in the Targal Glades, a time in which he not only learned Sylvan, the language of her people and the Dryad that he was told had created this wonderful forest in the first place, but also the different kind of Fey creatures inhabiting it. Ten years in which he got to know the Kitsune, became friends and eventually fell in love with her. Whatever else happened in his younger years he refuses to speak of - causing many to refute his entire story as a lie, for it seemed unlikely for him to make it back to Egron, the only place he had ever truly called home, after what he had went through in The Swamp of Palus. He doesn't challenge those claims though, simply stating that after these ten years, he made up his mind and returned the way he came. No matter whether or not his story is true, one can not deny that something is off about the man. Aside from his strange color of hair and eyes, he bears marks of ink on his right forearm and the left side of his neck, the latter bearing significant meaning to him as it seems. Along with that comes a fighting style unlike something the common man has ever seen, a strange mixture of alchemy and what could be seen as blood magic empowering his strikes in rapid succession. When questioned on these things, Verasul usually shrugs it off, saying it's simply something he picked up from an ordinary group of fighters called the "Blood Hunters". Appearance Standing at average height and weight for an Egronian Human, Verasul carries himself with a sense of confidence that borders on cockiness. This, coupled with the fact that he can be seen grinning in a mocking fashion most of the time, makes it easy for people to assume that he suffers from an immense amount of egotism. Ever since his mutation, Verasul's hair has turned a pale shade of white that not even expensive dyes can change, along with red irises that seem to glow in the dark - though this does not convey the ability to see in the dark, in contrast to what some might think. His hair in particular is one of the few things he seems to take care of more than the rest of his body: White strands looking as if they are brushed regularly even, compared to a dirty stubble of beard that he shaves whenever suits him best and a body riddled with scars, most notably a Lichtenberg Scarring that travels all the way up his left arm and a white, clear line all across his throat. His newest addition however is a set of three streaks that cross his entire face from ear to ear, having sustained heavy injuries from a Hag's claws. While the scarring does not seem to impair mouth and eyes, the surrounding skin is clearly infected with something due to their sickly, purple color. Although he is clothed in a common traveler's garb, Verasul heavily prefers walking around fully armored just in case something is afoot. His combat gear, aside from a by now silvered longsword and a crossbow, is set of chainmail armor along with gauntlets that cover his hands entirely. In contrast to his chestpiece, both of them seem to be made of a more blackish metal, which he proclaims is due to him liking the color. Personality Throughout his years, the demon contained within Verasul’s mind and the time spent with Fey in the Targal Glades certainly left their mark on the way the Blood Hunter behaves himself. His regular behavior can be described as reckless and rude to a fault, always more likely to throw shade at a person he dislikes than to seek amends unless the situation calls for it. This combined with a dark sense of humor and sarcasm can easily turn away people with more sensitive feelings, though he seems to get a rise out of startling or even offending such individuals in particular. He is incredibly flippant and care-free, and while he sobers up when things are at stake, he is never completely able to stifle his humour, making humorously cynical quips about it the entire time. He is rarely without a witty taunt or comeback. It is worth noting that this kind of behaviour is more common when Verasul is engaging with groups, such as when he is on an errant, mission or hunt. People often find that, when engaged one-on-one, the man seems much calmer and more sombre, prone to slurring words and treating matters with more care and decency than one might expect if they met him out in the field. Only the ones most close to him know that what had transpired in his childhood deeply scarred Verasul more than what is obvious. Suffering from constant night terrors due to his connection to a being from the Abyss, he partially suffers from insomnia and is prone to hallucinate especially at nights when sleep deprivation causes him to tire and let down his mental guard. He has begun combating these symptoms by engaging in copious amounts of drink, consuming alcohol nearly every day as long as the coin allows it. Miscellaneous and Trivia Relationships: * Lilliana'Mavros Ehvetto-Kailant: Savior, friend, lover, wife. There's not much else that needs to be said about a woman most people will never believe he has actually met, even to those that do not think he has simply gone insane. At first afraid of her as a young adult, by now he is deeply devoted to and would gladly give his life to protect hers - though him throwing his life away is exactly the thing she despises the most. The mark on his neck and a locket with her picture around his neck are the only things that prove her existence and he covets both immensely. Aspirations: Finding a way to get rid of the Fiend sharing his body without killing himself or others is his biggest priority. To that extend he has begun working as a Monster Slayer - both to train himself in fighting supernatural beings of all shape and form in order to prepare himself for an eventual, possible showdown with the evil within, but also to provide payment to survive on the road. Rumors: These can range from correct to absolutely false, please keep that in mind. Considering he travels around a lot, these are able to be picked up nearly everywhere. If certain rumors are particularly likely to be heard in a certain place, said location will be mentioned. * He's a crazy drunk that spouts nonsense, none of his stories are even the slightest bit real. * The reason he covers his hands at all times is because he hides his demonic hands. * That mark on his neck is the sign of a slave. He's enthralled by someone - or something! * He's a lesser devil in disguise, killing for sports and nothing else. * That weird magic he uses is absolutely illegal/evil/dangerous. He should be arrested, or better yet, killed. * Didn't someone of the name Rizakin live here at one point? (Scorchfront.) * He survived being attacked by a hag, but now she got her mark on him. It's only a time until she claims him. (Greyborough). Roleplaying Hooks: * Greyborough is the place he can be met most likely at the moment, given the fact that the Hag living in the nearby woods has something of his. * Any place where monsters have been sighted, he can be expected to show up eventually. As a Monster Slayer, he is dependent on jobs like these to earn coin - otherwise he has no room to sleep in and no food to sustain himself with. * In big cities like Moirost, he most often loiters around cathedrals and other buildings belonging to the clergy - though he never sets foot inside, seemingly content with listening in on the daily sermons. Trivia: * He feels most comfortable around farmers or other common folk, but can deal with nobles just fine as long as his abrasive nature doesn't turn them away on the spot. * He does indeed brush his hair every morning, though in secret. The reason he has told no one. * He absolutely loves spicy food. The hotter it burns, the better. * Tying into his alcoholism, he likes to use his alchemical knowledge in order to (attempt to) brew new drinks. * When he is sure no one is watching or listening in, he can be overheard talking to seemingly thin air. * He almost always smells of tobacco or alcohol, due to his consumption of both in copious amounts. Character Theme "'''I keep searching, I can't find, any kind of respite from the noise inside. The clock is laughing; don't ask me why. ''In the halls of my mind, I'm still haunted by design."' "'Cause I am the monster in your mind. The reason for your sleepless night. I'm the monster in your head. Still waiting in your bed. Can't escape I'll be your fate. 'Cause I'm the monster in your mind." "'I can't fight this worried mind. ''In the end, it's all my fault. The fate the you find, you choose in time, ''when you draw the devil on the wall. "' Category:5e Player Characters